


do not disturb

by roosebolton



Category: Andrew Hozier-Byrne (Musician), Nobody - Hozier (Song)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Song: Nobody (Hozier), don't act like you've never thought about it, okay there's a tiny bit of plot if you squint, someone had to do it and that someone was me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 03:31:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18842737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roosebolton/pseuds/roosebolton
Summary: if I had the choice / between hearing either noise / the excitement of a thousand / or the soothing of your voice / at first chance, I'd take the bed warmed by the body





	do not disturb

He was only a _little_ drunk, he told himself, leaning up against the elevator rail, catching sight of his dim reflection in the advertisement on the opposite wall. The doors closed and the echoing noises of the casino faded to a dull whoosh as the elevator moved.

When he got to the hotel room, the "do not disturb" sign was hanging precariously on the door handle. He knew who the sign was meant for.

Everyone but him.

It wasn't even his room, technically, but he _always_ got the extra key. He'd been through this a million times in a million cities but he never remembered to keep his keys separate - all the room keycards looked the same and he never knew which was which until he tried them.

Finally, the tiny light on the door turned green instead of red with a soft click. He pushed the door open just enough to slip inside, holding onto the door so it would shut softly instead of on its own, the hallway light slowly escaping until he was left in the dark, waiting for his eyes to adjust.

_Didn't even leave the bathroom light on for me, huh? Typical._

Once the faint light through the curtains was enough to see by, he hung his leather jacket in the half-empty closet and clumsily kicked off his shoes, nudging them to the side with one foot. Creeping forward, he noticed that there were two beds in the room, the farther one by the window pristine and untouched, the closer one a rumpled mess from the man sleeping in it. He stepped around the bags and clothes on the floor into the space between the beds, quietly unfastening and stepping out of his jeans, laying them on the extra bed, climbing under the blankets next to the other man in just his boxers and t-shirt. Warily, he scooted closer, curling an arm around the man, who continued snoring softly in response. He paused a few moments, settling in and getting comfortable, before tugging the collar of the other man’s shirt down just enough to give a gentle kiss to the top of his shoulder. He continued on like that, small, brief kisses up the shoulder and neck until he ended with a tiny nip on his earlobe.

_That will wake him up._

The sleeper awoke with a mumble, the loose syllables spilling from his mouth not quite forming words. He turned his head to the side, still half asleep, unable to turn far enough to see the man behind him in the bed.

“Alex?”

“Nah, I’m a stranger with a key to your room.”

The former sleeper groaned and elbowed him. “Fucker.”

“Yeah, but you love it.”

“Why do I put up with you again?”

“Hmm, must be because I occasionally let you beat me in Mario Kart.” That earned him another elbow to the abdomen.

“Do not. When I win, I beat you fair and square. And you know it.”

“Oh, well, must be some other reason then. Maybe this?” Alex ran one hand down to rest at his friend’s waistband, hooking his thumb onto it, his fingers slightly lower.

His friend paused. “Maybe.”

“Or maybe it’s just because I know you so well. Is your face red yet? Or should I move my hand further south?”

“Ah, well, I… ehm…”

“Not much of a poet right now, are you? Good thing I’ve known you so long. I’ve become fluent in your mumbling nonsense.”

“I’m… that predictable, am I?”

“Rather full of surprises, sometimes, but alone, in bed? You react predictably, yeah. Like so.” He slipped his hand inside the slit in his friend’s boxers, brushing against his anatomy, causing a sudden, sharp intake of breath and a soft curse with the exhale.

“Fuck. You’re not this forward unless you’ve been drinking.”

“Guess you know me pretty well, too. Want me to stop?” Instead of lightly touching, he now wrapped agile fingers around.

His friend paused again, his racing pulse clearly felt by Alex’s grasping hand, before admitting “...no.”

Alex snickered. “I thought not,” he said calmly, moving his hand loosely, just enough to make his friend squirm and no more. He scooted a little closer in the bed so that his friend could feel the state he was in, pressing hips urgently against him, needful despite his casual tone.

“I, ehm, can you… er...” his friend began.

“Andrew. Use your words, if you can. Makes things easier, eh?”

“Shut up. Let me turn over. You don’t have enough room anyway.” He wriggled out of Alex’s grasp and rolled over to face him, tugging him toward the middle of the bed.

“I swear, you fall out of bed _one_ time during sex and you never live it down.”

“Nope, never. Sorry. Shame I couldn’t tell anyone, it was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, well, more’s the pity.” He slipped his hand back into Andrew’s boxers, pulling him through the hole this time. “Anyway, where was I?”

Andrew cleared his throat. “You were… there, yes. Ehm, please continue.”

“Ah, well, now that I have proper _permission_ .” He gave Andrew a few light tugs. “And, y’know, if you wanted to return the favour, it would be _most_ kind of you.”

“You’re a shit,” Andrew mumbled affectionately, creeping nimble fingers under Alex’s waistband to gather him loosely in hand.

“Ah… much better.”

Fumbling like schoolboys, they stroked each other, cautiously at first but soon moving into a rhythm as sure and steady as the instruments they played on stage. Alex let out a sigh, his breath hitching in his throat, and moved a little closer, leaning his forehead against Andrew’s, their knuckles occasionally grazing each other in quick, clumsy motions. The warmth of the bed from Andrew’s solid sleep meant they were damp with sweat quicker than usual, their wetness mingling on their pressed-together brows. Andrew pursed his lips in concentration.

They had played this game many, many times. That night, Alex lost.

Quietly stuttering _fuck, fuck, fuck,_ Alex spilled over Andrew’s fingers and onto the sweat-soaked hotel sheets. When he opened his eyes, he could see Andrew’s toothy, triumphant grin.

_God dammit._

“I can always tell when you’re getting close. Your hand stops moving.”

Alex cleared his throat. “You do the same thing.”

“But not tonight,” Andrew said, amused. “So…”

Alex playfully shoved him a little. “Yeah, I know the rules.” He turned the comforter and sheet down, exposing Andrew to the cool room air. Tying his hair back to get it out of the way, unselfconsciously licking his lips, he shot a glance up at Andrew before bending down to take him into his mouth, bobbing his head a bit before releasing and swirling his tongue around the tip. Alex gave his hand a good wet lick, taking Andrew in hand and jerking him a few times before gripping him at the base, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly as he sank his mouth down onto him, taking him in as deeply as he dared, gliding his hand slickly and rapidly over the section of shaft that wasn’t in his mouth.

He knew he was doing well when he started hearing the softest, lowest moans from Andrew’s lips - the kind of noises he couldn’t help but echo as best he could with his mouth full.

Alex lingered a while longer, holding Andrew deeply in his mouth, before moving again, his sucking and saliva causing a chorus of loud, wet, lewd sounds against his friend’s flesh - a sort of private duet that was nothing like the music they played in public.

Andrew’s moans continued, his breathing growing more ragged by the second, and he twined the long, slender fingers of one hand into Alex’s hair, loosening it from its tie.

 _Who’s losing now?_ Alex thought, smirking with eyes only, his mouth still otherwise occupied.

With a sharp, gasping cry, Andrew reached his climax, gripping Alex’s hair tight enough to almost hurt, holding him in place until the last throb escaped him, then releasing him entirely with a slightly embarrassed “sorry” and a sheepish smile. Alex swallowed neatly, taking a sip of water from the cup that was always on Andrew’s bedside table.

“Sorry? You can pull it harder than that, I won’t complain,” Alex said with a grin.

Andrew hit him with a pillow. “Hey. Shower now? You’re a bit of a mess there.”

Alex shook his head. “Taking one in the morning anyway. Unless you want my cold wet hair on you while you’re trying to sleep.” He lay down beside Andrew and pulled the covers up. “Besides, it’s, what... 3am here? If your alarm clock is accurate.”

“That late?” Andrew rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “They’re going to knock on the door early and find us like this.”

“You’d _think_ they’d be used to it by now.”

Andrew stretched his arms and legs, making himself comfortable, and yawned. “See you in the morning, then.”

Alex likewise yawned, draping one arm over Andrew, eyes already closed, lips curved in a smile.

“Lucky you.”


End file.
